Familiar
by Dukes126plus
Summary: But he can’t let himself be Bo’s peer. He’s a man with responsibilities. He laughs some and watches carefully even more, until his cousin leaves the rubble of his dangerous games behind to pick up speed and pull up in front of them. From Repo Men.


This was actually the last one that I wrote, and it's from one of my favorite episodes, _Repo Men_. It was originally called _Anything For You_, but in fairness, there's another story out there now with that title, so it got renamed for purposes of this site.

The relationship obviously starts before the story (and maybe before the series, because as cwgirlup points out, just because the story of the Dukes as we know it starts with the pilot, doesn't mean the story between the boys doesn't go back a ways), and has come to a crossroads.

* * *

The bitch is a familiar, warm presence, squirming under Luke's hand with the anticipation of good things to come. Her curls catch in his fingers as he holds her, all squirm and squeal and an innocent kiss for his cheek while he fights down the desire to toss her back into the car and return her to the safety of her home. Instead he straightens his arms up into the air, holding her aloft for all the world (and one big, black, nasty dog) to smell. Fool's snicker behind him reminding him that Cooter's along for this ride and just waiting for him to get things moving.

They are all, family and friends alike, waiting on Luke. To stop hesitating over the fragility of the dog in his arms, and drop her into the waiting jaws of the dark fury that's running at them now. Sacrifice the pretty thing to greater good, and just look there, she wants it every bit as much as he does. Maybe more.

She's just a dog; Luke lets her go. Has a troublesome yearning to level Cooter for his advice to the poor little thing: "Have fun." Then again, he finds himself laughing with genuine relief when Goliath out there doesn't tear the sweet pup to bits. If anything the old girl seems to tame him down, bring out a gentleness that no one would ever believe was inside that dog. Leastwise, not when it tried to bite Bo's hand off just a short while ago, back when their shadows were shorter and the day held some promise.

Bo is off in the woods, just waiting for the old men that he thinks of Cooter and Luke as being to get around to liberating that Rolls Royce. If they ever get rolling (and it has to be a straightforward drive down the rutted road in the high-priced car that's the key to their continued freedom) Bo can come out to play and the fun can start.

There's so much thinking, planning, worrying, then tinkering and replanning that goes into every step of this kind of a mission. Bo doesn't care at all about that part, he's always just itching to get on with things that involve speed or fists, are based entirely on instinct. Like he's just discovered a new mud puddle, Bo likes to roll around and get dirty, then casually ask Luke why he's so clean. Well, because someone has to fetch the water and dump it into the sunken earth, and all the while that Luke's making sure the water is not hot enough to burn or deep enough to drown, Bo's just splashing around and giggling. Must be fun having someone who will fetch the whole world for him just so he can play with it until he gets bored.

Retrieving the Rolls goes to prove how it's good that Luke's got the front end of these operations. Goes wrong before it goes right, and there's no way Bo would have kept his head together well enough to get everything back on-target again (Luke can be sure of this, because he's just that close to losing his own cool). By the time Bo joins in the game Luke's glad to see him; the careful way he's got to keep the Rolls settled in the middle of the red clay and its natural lack of speed have left him and Cooter about as defenseless as roadkill, wide open and waiting for the buzzards.

In those moments when Bo's cheerfully ripping cars apart with nothing more than his talent behind the wheel and mower teeth, Luke can almost remember what it was like to be who his cousin is now. Young, relaxed, nothing to worry about. Luke was most of those things once, or at least parts of those things, sometimes. He feels them trying to tear free in his gut, doing little flips in there as Cooter hoots in his ear. But he can't let himself be Bo's peer. He's a man with responsibilities. He laughs some and watches carefully even more, until his cousin leaves the rubble of his dangerous games behind to pick up speed and pull up in front of them.

Giddy giggles greet him as he climbs out of the Rolls. It's a good thing he moves fast, because somewhere in the time between him opening the door and making his way over to the passenger side, Bo jumps. Those seconds are constructed out of sheer trust: that Luke will get there in time, that his arms will be out, that he can hold Bo's weight (and that he wants to). Late afternoon sun, smell of freshly turned dirt, unashamed laughter in his ear – everything their childhood is made of is right here. And in that slight curl at the tip of Bo's lips, the way his chin tips down so he can see Luke through the filter of lashes – only the two of them in a cocoon that Bo has spun for them – there's a challenge. _I'm stronger than you think_, or maybe _I can handle whatever you can throw at me_.

_I want it_ is what his cousin's been saying to him, like what they're talking about is strawberry ice cream. As if the greatest risk might be a little bellyache instead of more heartache than Bo stands a chance of tolerating. The way they'll have to sneak around their friends and family, the added leverage the law could have against them if they made even the slightest mistake, and the girls (oh the girls) that he'll have to turn away in droves. All Bo's loudest qualities will have to mute themselves down to the level where secrets are kept, somewhere below whisper and well nigh onto silent. That's not who his cousin was born to be.

_I can take it_ is everything in Bo's posture from the time they hit Rosco's roadblock right on through the walk home, even if he is favoring his right foot after awhile. Soft skin and easy blisters, but he won't cop to it, and Luke's got no plans on carrying him, so they both pretend there's no limping going on over there.

_I ain't afraid_ has got to be what makes Bo stand there alongside him (even if he does put Luke between himself and Jesse, like a shield) and face up to their uncle, confessing as to how they've been slickered again.

And when the long night of destruction is done, when the morning's amusement has passed, when Jesse has retired for a nap and Daisy's off to handle the lunch crowd at the Boar's Nest, Bo's got hold of his hand, leading him off to the privacy of the tree-lined stream that cuts a diagonal across the north third of their property. Shoves him against a solid maple and demands kisses, gets pushed back against an oak by a hand that's exploring the soft skin under the hem of that blue t-shirt.

"Please, Luke," he says, all need and no brains. Luke kisses him again, just to put an end to the begging that has always found its way past his better judgment in the past. "I mean it," Bo says pushing up, like he always does, against Luke's objections to see just how much muscle they've got behind them and just how rigid they might be, whether to use a hammer in hopes that they'll shatter, or a puff of cotton to wipe the veneer away. Tries something in between – a strategically placed hand, a tongue licking at things Bo has no business tasting, a groan and some begging. Bo's offering himself up like a bitch in heat.

The boy is a familiar, warm presence, squirming under Luke's hand with the anticipation of good things to come. His curls catch in Luke's fingers as he holds on, a squirming ball of urgency, and a distracting kiss on his neck while Luke fights down the urge to send him home to the safety of Jesse's arms. Why Bo's so ready to give himself over to the dark fury of his cousin, he hasn't ever tried to explain. Rolls his eyes whenever Luke asks why standing too close turned to kissing and now begging.

"I love you," Bo says now, just like he's said every time the question arises. "And I want you." God, he's never added those words at the end, never held Luke with quite this much confidence before, never been quite this insistent with the hand inside his pants.

He reaches down into himself, below the want and worry, underneath his better judgment and wiser thoughts, to find a tenderness; something only Bo could bring out in him, something he's reflecting back as gentleness. Hands on Bo's face, in his hair, slowing things down. _I'm going to give you what you want_, is the rhythm he sets with Bo, _but I refuse to hurt you_.

"Slow down," he reclaims his lips and tongue to whisper.

Bo nods his eager little head. _Anything for you_.


End file.
